Butterfly in Glass
by Sara Sidle Grissom
Summary: Sad drabble. Sara finds something unexpected in the windowsill of Grissom's townhouse. Complete.


_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.  
Spoilers: Burden of proof.  
A/N: This is a sad drabble I needed to write. If you don't like character death, stop reading. Don't say you weren't warned._

**Butterfly in Glass  
**

The minute I opened the door I knew something wasn't right. I closed the door behind me and a blanket of darkness covered me. Hesitantly I opened the door to the living room, where I was greeted by a cold wind coming from the open window. I looked around, but it was too dark, I couldn't make out the features.

I found the light switch and turned on the light. I walked towards the window to close it, but just as I was about to, I came across something on the windowsill. My hands left the window and moved towards the piece of glass that was lying there. It was a butterfly, neatly engraved in the piece of glass. With shaking hands I picked it up and saw something underneath it.

There... on the windowsill was an envelope. I slowly took it and turned it over, reading my name on the paper. Everything fell out of my hands as I stood there, shocked. I walked back until my back hit the wall. My cries filled the room as I let myself slid down the wall to the floor.

I couldn't believe this was really happening, I prayed it was just a dream. But reality hit when I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter within. It was not just a letter to me, it was something else. This was the last I would ever 'hear' him say.

With a rush I stood up and the letter whirled to the ground. My head hurt from the crying as I ran through the townhouse. I opened various doors, but there was no sign of him. Until I opened the last door, the door to his bedroom. I know I screamed, before rushing over the side of his bed. I think I tried to stop the bleeding, but I was too late. He had died... because he had cut his wrists. With my finger I searched for a heartbeat, but it was in vain.

The last thing I remember doing was climbing on the bed, pulling him up and holding him in my arms. My sobs became louder and my whole body was shaking with grief. I don't remember how long I sat there... probably for hours, because when Catherine came it was already light.

I do remember how she stood there, arms hanging at her side. She rushed over and pulled me away from him, letting the paramedics in. She pulled me in an embrace and tried to soothe me. But all I did was cried and tried to go back to him, trying to touch him. I cried even louder when a few paramedics gave me some medication before releasing me.

I think I fell asleep, having nightmare after nightmare... When I woke up I was in my own apartment and Nick was sitting with me. The first I asked for was the letter, but they hadn't brought it with them when the dropped me home. Nick promised me he would go to Grissom's townhouse to get the letter and the butterfly. I cried again as I tried to thank him, but no words came out of my throat.

It's now a year ago that he died. My grief is always there, and I know it will never go away, but I know there was nothing that could have stopped him. This was his decision, although I would have wanted that it would have never happened.

The cemetery is quiet and I'm sitting on the sand in front of his tombstone. Tears are welling in my eyes again, as I place the plant next to the stone. It was the same kind of plant he sent me a few years ago, but that one died, on the day he had died.

I took the letter out of my pocket and unfold it, just like I did a year ago. I haven't read it since. With my fingers I trace the letters he has written, seeing him sitting at the table. It's like he never left, never died. I can still see him sharply... and every time I walk into his office I see him sitting there, although everything changed. Catherine has his job now, but she never dared to change the interior. I think she doesn't want to... afraid to leave it all behind. My other hand tightens around the piece of glass with the butterfly, it has become important to me and I always have it with me.

My tears make it almost impossible to read so I wipe them away as good as I can. My hands are shaking as I start reading.

_Dear Sara,_

_When you are reading this letter you're probably only a few feet away from me. There are only a few walls between us. But please wait here, read this all before you start looking for me, because I know that's what you want. But please read this first, read what I have to say to you. _

_I know you now think this was not supposed to happen, but there was no other way Sara. We couldn't have solved, we couldn't have made this thing right. I hurt you too bad, nothing could ever make that go away. The pain would always be there, with every look you would give me. _

_For years I've tried to show my feelings towards you, but I couldn't. And with that I only hurt you more then I intended. I never intended to hurt your feelings. And yes, I do know that you would have been able to forgive me... but I wasn't able to forgive myself._

_A relationship between us would have never worked out. I would still not be able to show my feelings, and that would have scared you away. And I know you know that too, I just couldn't live with the idea that you would leave me for somebody else. It's better this way Sara._

_The butterfly that is lying on top of this letter is for you, I bought it years ago, back in San Francisco. I planned to give it to you, but when I was sitting in the plane back to Vegas I found out that I forgot. I know I could have sent it to you, but I was scared of your reaction, scared that you would laugh about it._

_Now I know you would never do that and this why I give this to you now. It stands for the love I have for you in my heart, but also for the same love I'm not able to show you. And for that I'm apologising to you with everything I can... _

_Please find a way to be happy Sara, meet other people, find the love of your life, and have children. There's still a lot for you in this world, unlike for me. Promise me that you will be happy, but do it in the way you feel comfortable with. And don't feel sorry for me, don't feel pity. This was my decision and it's the best for both of us. _

_Everything I own is yours now, my personal stuff and my house. I have nobody else to give it too, and I know I can trust you with my stuff. Also with this letter I will give you my mother's address, I want you to be the one to tell her what happened. She has a right to know who the Sara is I have been talking about for years. She will like you..._

_Love,_

_Gil_

I live in his townhouse now; I've left everything the way it was. The butterfly frames are still there, so are the bugs. His tarantula is also living here; I feel that I have to make sure everything is the same. It's like he never left... Sometimes I expect him to walk through the door, just like he did so many times.

The conversation with his mother had been hard, when I told her that her son had killed himself she had pulled me in a tight embrace, softly crying. I caressed her back, trying to comfort her, while my own tears were running down my cheeks.

She went with me to Vegas for the funeral, that day had been the worst after his death. I got the feeling that the speakers really didn't know him, that nobody knew him. His mother stayed with me in his house for a few weeks, and he had been right, she liked me.

He told me to be happy, to find my great love, and to have children. I haven't succeeded in any of them yet. Back then I was happy, because we were working together and he was, and still is my great love.

I will never find somebody to have children with, because I don't want to. I've wanted to have children with him, but we never got the chance. I had no time to tell him. There's only one way I can keep on living and that is by remembering him. If it wasn't for his mother I would have killed myself by now, but together we have to stay strong; we need each other, more than we know.

When I feel a hand on my shoulder I look up. She is standing there with her other hand stretched out. I take it and stand up. Then I'm facing her and she pulls me in a hug, stroking by back. I let out a deep sigh as the tears continue to run over my cheeks.

I pull back to sign at her, which she taught me to do. /We have to go. /

She nods. /I'm sorry Sara. I know you loved him. /

/I still do. / And with that we walk towards the sun, leaving the cemetery behind us.

I know my mind is fooling me, but when I hear my name I turn around and see him standing there. He signs to me and I stop walking. I sign back the same before he fades away//I love you. /

**The End.**


End file.
